The toenail is gone. Partly.
Dr. Viktorrr doesn't know if the whole thing needs to go or not. He thinks perhaps I can just have this part removed and perhaps with help it'll grow back in correctly, but he's not sure. If it doesn't work, I'll have it all out for good. I wanted to just get it all out to-day, but Mum is convinced that when I'm sixteen I'll want to paint my toenails, and painting the nail bed is a bad idea, so she talked me out of it for now.
If it goes back in, though, I'm getting it all out. I'm so incredibly sick of the damned thing by now.
Do not think I shall be able to go to work to-morrow, though. Wheelchairs are probably not a good thing to have around a humongously bandaged foot that hurts when I put any weight on it. Bad. I keep having trouble walking around, and the stairs are proving a greater challenge than I remember.
This did not deter da' from asking me to fetch the trashcans from upstairs and take them out, however, and Waen wanted me to bring hers down too. I did, but mehh. I have to lean my back against the wall and sidle up with my feet out to keep them partly elevated. It is muy annoying.
I cannot do any of my exercise for a week, however, which annoys me. That's about 3,500 jumping jacks and 700 pushups I'm missing. I stopped running laps a couple of weeks ago, because the heat here is incredible. Mum is trying to get the Folks to give me their treadmill, since they're moving out of their house soon and they won't have room for it in the little place they're building.
Now I'm searching the Classifieds for a trampoline.
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